


All The Kings Men

by mandydarlings



Series: Benefaction [1]
Category: Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: F/M, Kadara Port, Pining, Post-High Noon, Torture, Violence, criminal activity, elaaden, lots of pining, reyes likes his spaceships, who the hell names their criminal base 'the flophouse'
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-26
Updated: 2017-07-28
Packaged: 2018-12-08 04:48:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11639232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mandydarlings/pseuds/mandydarlings
Summary: The board was set. Reyes Vidal could see the act coming together piece by piece. All the players he had manipulated stood in position; each had taken their roles willingly. All it had taken was Sara Ryder to bring ruin to all his meticulously laid plans. His empire in ruins Reyes Vidal starts over.





	1. The Charlatan Unmasked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All his plans are laid to waste as Reyes escapes Kadara to rebuild and reinvent himself.

 

_Et tibit Pater_

_Quia peccavi nimis_

_Cogitatione_

_Verbo et opera_

 

_And to you father_

_That I have sinned_

_In thought_

_And in Word and Deed_

 

The board was set. Reyes Vidal could see the act coming together piece by piece. All the players he had manipulated stood in position; each had taken their roles willingly. All it had taken was _her_ to bring ruin to all his meticulously laid plans.

She was the woman who looked at him as if he could be a better man. He remembered seeing the fragile glass between him and his charade crack. He saw it shatter completely as realization swept over Sara Ryder’s face. _You lied to me_. In another life perhaps he was a better man and even then he probably wouldn’t deserve her.

_You should have told her_ , Keema Dohgrun’s sing song voice echoed in the remnants of his heart. _She’ll hate you when this is over if you don’t._

 Reyes should have done many things before Sloane Kelly plastered his face all over the port, all over the QEC, and to anyone who would listen. It was the face of a man, the face of a coward, but more importantly to Sloane, the face of the Charlatan. There was a reward for whoever took him alive, and an even better one for whoever delivered the body.

Reyes had arrived at one of the Collective safe houses as his first man turned on him.

It burned deep, and cut hard as the blade slid into his gut. Reyes reared back. Fighting like he learned in the docks when it was his own fists he had to use.

There was a loud gunshot and blood splattered his face as his assailant fell.

A Salarian Collective Agent stood behind the body lowered his gun. Reyes watched him wondering if this one wanted the reward all for himself. “Not going to turn you in.” He said offering a hand to Reyes. “Dr. Nakamura. The Charlatan funnels money into the clinic, that’s you. Saved my sister. Saved a friend. Sloane would have let them die.”

The Salarian helped Reyes to his feet. “Thank you, my friend.” Reyes said quietly as he wiped the blood from his face

“You should go.” The Salarian looked around nervously as he handed him some medi gel, “it won’t be safe here much longer.”

The wound was bandaged and cleaned. Reyes Vidal mentally rearranged his assets. Starting over with a dedicated few would be difficult, but he was a patient man. “I need to know which bases are compromised, what is your name?”

“Virlan,” The Salarian replied and shook Reyes’ hand.

By the time he arrived at the collective airbase a firefight between the Outcast and Collective roared to life. He evaluated watching each side fire at each other. Getting into the base would be unthinkable and causing massive causalities to his men. As much as he loved his ship, Macaria, she would not be worth the deaths without his men to rebuild. It was a stroke of luck the Outcasts had a good ship sitting right there. The ship itself was an older model familiar to him as he ran his hand along the side like an old lover.

He slipped in unnoticed during the skirmish. _Like riding a bike_ , Reyes thought to himself as he opened the panel and rigged the wires bringing the ship to life. The Outcasts noticed a little too late as the ship began to pull away. The distraction giving the Collective the moment they needed to gain the upper hand. He watched as his men drove them out as he gave them a salute.

Reyes took one last look at Kadara Port. It was lit up and vibrant as the sun began to set. It was beautiful and it had served as the first safe harbor he had ever known since he was a child.

There was a large empty space that remained at the dock, a vacuous hole where the Tempest and Sara Ryder had once been. She had been on Kadara working hard for weeks to reactivate the vault, to dig her mark in their world. He wondered if she didn’t want to stay and see what became of him or was it his head she was willing to bargain with for Sloane.

_No_ , Reyes thought, _Ryder would never be so cruel._

The stolen cargo ship touched down on Elaaden and Reyes Vidal walked out into the sun. It was blistering hot in Paradise. He could feel the sweat trickle down his back as he walked towards the port city. The locals observed him as a complete stranger. His beard was unkempt, his hair no longer in the slick coif he adorned on Kadara.

Messages from Keema flooded his omni tool. There were details about the raids on his men in the Badlands. There were defectors running into Sloane’s waiting palm. Keema had issued orders that defectors were dealt with harshly. The loyal had dug in deep in Draulir an unbreakable hold against the hammer that is Sloane’s men.

Reyes breathed a bit easier knowing that even now Keema was not compromised. If he had a friend in this galaxy it would be that Angaran. He found himself missing her as he scanned the mountains and sand dunes of Elaaden. “Our tiny friend…” It sounded like she smiled as she spoke, always part of the role she was born to play.

Tiny Friend only meant Sara Ryder. “Keema, I don’t-“ He began icily.

“All anyone can talk about in the port is how the human Pathfinder marched into Sloane’s throne room. She has been causing quite the stir since your… separation.” Keema worded everything so carefully. She knew this as a subject where she is walking on glass. It didn’t make the tugging in his heart ache any less. “The alliance between Sloane and the Pathfinder… it had a rocky start. She made demands. The Pathfinder doesn’t quite have the same affection for heads on spike’s that Sloane does.”

“Ryder… is not like us.” Reyes said discreetly.

“Particularly… your head,” That surprised him. He could swear he could _feel_ Keema smiling over the line. “There had been something of an argument. Before Sloane agreed to allow the Initiative an outpost on Kadara. No more beatings. No more executions. No more heads on spikes. _She_ wants you alive.”

Silence followed as he pondered the many motives she could have. “You risk much to tell me this.” Reyes replied.

“We all risk much for what we can,” Keema mused. “Ryder is also not at Kadara as often as she used to be. She doesn’t see what is still happening in the port. Sloane plays the game but her moves lack the soft touches the people need. Several of the outposts have been raided. Kaetus looks for you in the wreckage. He has no doubt heard the rumors of the Charltan escaping. Be careful, Vidal.”

He let the weight fall on him. “They know my face, Keema.”

“Then become someone worth looking at.” Keema was his friend. Keema also needed him if she were to gain favor back in the port for the Angara. Before he can speak she piped up again, “The Tempest is on its way to Paradise. Seems to have quite the following.” She smirked.

The line disconnected.

“Shit.” He said to no one. He reached into his bag and takes out the remnants of his bottle of Mount Milgrom. They never finished it that night as they were too busy learning the typography of each other’s bodies. He didn’t like this ache in his chest. He was a man where the end justifies the means, but the look on her face has stayed with him.

_You lied to me_ , echoed in his mind. He swallowed it down and focused. Those were the words of a woman who never felt the cost of the truth.

Reyes messaged one of his operatives in New Tuchanka. Ryder herself should be of no consequence but as the Pathfinder she was too valuable a resource to ignore. He scanned the map of the harsh planet and found what he needed. _Tell the Pathfinder about the Raiders at the flophouse,_ he messaged the Krogan _._ It didn’t take long to get a ping back in the affirmative. Ryder owed him this at least, not that she would be aware of who pulled the strings this time. He learned from the best after all.

Notification came soon enough from his Krogan man. The Pathfinder entered New Tuchanka and got herself involved. _All I had to say was Raiders and the Pyjak suited right up_ was the response he received. No doubt running to save the day with her biotics blazing and her companions trailing behind to keep up.

_How does she look,_ Reyes asked guardedly

_Human_ , came the quick reply. _Two companions with her a Krogan and a Human Male. Orders, Charlatan?_

_Keep eyes on the target and report when the_ _objective is complete._

_Got it, Boss._

Pride washed over him. There were no questions in his orders now. No loose ends or bread crumbs that men would try to follow for answers. He was no longer the hidden master in the shadows. He had seen what happens to those in charge when they are known, and seen what happens when they hide. Reyes would have liked to have the choice in his circumstance. Being unmasked by Sloane made him feel exposed, but he wasn’t vulnerable.

Sometime later the familiar noise of the omni-tool broke him from his train of thought. _Flophouse is empty. Pyjak works fast._ Attached was a picture of Sara Ryder as she returned to New Tuchanka. Reyes’ eyes lingered on it longer than he would admit. Ryder looked exhausted. There were circles under her eyes. He was not worried about her personally, he told himself. Reyes was a man invested in the larger picture. She was an asset to the Heleus cluster, not to the man known as the Charlatan.

It didn’t help that in the photo her male companion, Kosta he remembered, had been leaning too close. He allowed himself a moment to rage. _Good_ , he told himself, _she isn’t sleeping well_. Reyes had half a mind to take his ship, his unkempt beard and demand answers. To take all this anger, pain, and resentment have her hold it in her hand to feel it burn.

A moment later there was a calming breeze on his face. His anger bubbled beneath the surface and dissipated. The air around him didn’t feel like it’s holding its breath anymore. He knew what that meant. He had seen it on Kadara. Between the Flophouse and solving New Tuchanka’s internal issues she had time to reset the Vault.

The air washed over him. He closed his eyes and let it dance around him. It reminded him of home. It reminded him of a place long gone, of an old woman’s whose hands felt like paper, and of a life that could never return. Reyes Vidal allowed himself a moment to ache, to feel the longing and loss.

Reyes Vidal watched from a peak as the first few outpost ships began to arrive. A small swell of pride filled him due to the proximity to the Krogan city they were allowed. He watched as the Tempest team, with Sara Ryder at the helm, as they assisted in removing boxes and cargo crates from each of the arriving ships. Civilization would endure as the colonists from the Milky Way worked together to build. For a brief moment it was everything that they had all hoped for, but it had come at a great cost.

Sara looked so tired, but she kept going crate after crate. It took the Turian, Vetra, to herd Ryder back inside the Tempest. Jubilation and cries of joys echoed across the canyon as he Tempest fired up and hit the atmosphere.

Reyes Vidal, The Charlatan, sent a message to his men on their secured channel. He gave them coordinates for their new home, and the opportunity for a new life. _The king must hold his court,_ Reyes thought as he landed on the platform of the Flophouse. There were still bodies left about the place as the first of his men had begun arriving in their ships.

“What do we do with the bodies, boss?” Hax Purak asked, the Krogan from New Tuchanka asked.

_It was strange_ , he thought while he stood in the sun, _being a man out of the shadows_. There was no one here to speak his words, no one here to pretend. “We bury the dead.” He nodded at them.

More members of the Collective trickle in. The Salarian, Virlan, who saved him arrived with two more in tow. Sloane delved more and more into paranoia each day as the Pathfinder is away, they reported. He watched them all. He catalogued each face into his memory. Some of these agents he would send to their deaths, some would commit atrocities in the name of profit, but they would all see him. He didn’t trust that feeling of loyalty, and wondered when he would be  sold out again. It would only be a matter of time, but he would show them what happened to those who betrayed the Collective.

The Collective took to calling their new found home Cynopolis. It was no longer a seedy dive for raiders hidden in the mountains. Reyes Vidal intended to turn it into a very functional port city. He looked around it was strongly defensible against raiders, kett, or any of Sloane’s toys.

He wondered about the Pathfinder, the woman who kicks in the front door and what she might think as he staked his claim in the ground. Reyes Vidal opened his omni-took and typed up a message.

_For what it’s worth, Ryder, you are one hell of a woman._

Reyes Vidal would be someone here of his own making. He wouldn’t be a lackey, or referred to as a third rate smuggler… he would be king. He would show the defectors and most of all Sloane Kelly what it meant to truly rule. He fastened his new armor as he looked out over the canyon. The fabric was black with gold trim and he found he liked the feel of it.

  
[Art by Shotce](https://shotce.tumblr.com/) who is amazing

 


	2. Persephone Rising

Cynopolis had grown in the month since its founding. There had been more buildings added to the structure. His men built prefab housing, medical lab, and a functioning dock. Defenses and turrets sprung up around the perimeter as more of Sloane’s men defected or lost Exiles or Raiders came to their doorstep. The man known as the Charlatan welcomed them in, providing food and comfort in the lost wastes of Elaaden.

It was surprisingly easy to strike up an alliance with the locals on the barren planet. The rumors spread of the Charlatan’s vengeance being swift and finite, but mercy could be a thing that was bought.  Reyes didn’t put a stop to any of the fact or fiction that the men would come up with for him. The truth was sometimes more horrifying than the pretty lies that they had painted across the galaxy.

Reyes Vidal was also a patient man, but staying out in the open still sat uneasy under his skin. It itched as he waited for a shuttle that would bring him much needed news. All the preparations had been laid out, the great care to reclaim one of his past pieces of the board. All of Reyes Vidal’s carefully planned moves relied on this one woman.

 Keema Dohrgun’s ship arrived in the port midday. She wore a veil that had been a gift from Reyes during the early days of their alliance. Like all things shared between the two it had a meaning. When she wore it when the sun was high in the sky it meant that a meeting would need to take place and she had information that was vital to whatever plan he had at that hour. “That color suits you, Vidal.” She smiled as her friend approached her.

“The veil is stunning as always, my friend, it is always good news to see it.” He clasped her shoulders. “I half expected to meet you at Paradise. What a pleasure to have you visit our humble port.”

Keema laughed. “No, darling, Cynopolis is a far better location to land to reach New Tuchanka.”

“You wound me.” Reyes Vidal laughed. “You are lying.”

“How could I pass up the joy of your company if even for a few minutes? Your rates for port are far more acceptable,” Keema looked at him pointedly, “and Sloane Kelly wanted me to return with a full report of this outfit. “

 “I’m not surprised. Come along, my friend.” They walked towards one of the main buildings. It wasn’t much bigger that his apartment in Kadara, but he had chosen this one for its location. It was high enough that he could see what lay out before him, and provided a beautiful view of the sunset.  He waved his hand at some of his men, dismissing them so he could talk in private as the door acknowledged his code and whooshed open. Keema had to hide in plain sight, her loyalty unquestioned, and her guard always up. For her to be so open in her visitation was a cause for worry and the veil signified information.

“It seems that this place has taken to you,” Keema looked around the spacious prefab that he called home. There were elaborate computers set up constantly scanning and logging information on one side of the apartment. There were two small arm chairs with a table between them. A tiny kitchen that was just big enough for one. The space was cramped, but clearly lived in as she took it in with a surprise on her face no doubt thinking of his old antiseptic apartment. Keema walked around the outfit before taking her place on one of the comfortable chairs. “My, what extravagance.”

Reyes handed her a glass of Angaran wine as he took his seat across from her. “You being here is dangerous,” he warned.

“I am here merely to discuss trade negotiations with New Tuchanka, and confirm that the Flophouse had been taken over by the Charlatan.” Keema smiled playfully as she twirled her glass. “Sloane also wants me to offer you a truce and possibly tell her that your hospitality was dismal.”

“I am sure I treated you deplorably in your reports.” Reyes poured himself a glass of whiskey.

“I had a horrific time and the lodging was insulting for an ambassador of my standing.” Keema sipped her wine. “To the business at hand, Reyes, the Collective agents who remain on Kadara have been diligent in disrupting the Outcasts safe holds and transport lines. Kaetus has been leading strikes against you. Quite the vendetta that one is holding. I would be careful of him. Even as Sloane speaks treaties, I do not think his injured pride will allow it.”

“I’m not surprised,” He replied smoothly. “I did after all leave him in front of the Outcast Headquarters within an inch of his life… Sloane wants to offer peace?”

“She will be drafting up a full offer after her business with the new colony is finished.” Keema sighed. “I think she wants to play you the fool

“Using my own tactic against me.” He took a swig and it burned in his belly. “I can say she doesn’t have the finesse for such a move.”

 “I doubt the table will be set as it once was.” She swirled her glass, gave him a sly smile. “She still doesn’t hold the love of the port, and I doubt she ever will.”

“We are regrouping,” Reyes spat, “it won’t belong to her forever.”

“There is one other matter.” Keema held his gaze searching for any of his normal tells, “the Human Pathfinder.”

The word, the title, sunk in his belly like lead. He kept his face as passive and uninterested, betraying nothing of the turmoil underneath. “Always causing trouble, that one,” He had become something, someone other and he could see Keema didn’t quite know what to make of him now. She was looking at him like a stranger she knew very well.

“She still seems to be on your mind, even now.” Keema sipped her glass, breaking eye contact. “She caused quite a stir after your… separation. Ended up in a bar brawl at Kralla’s Song. I heard she even punched a Krogan, the tiny thing.”

Reyes almost choked on his drink and Keema flashed a wicked smile. “I will have to ask my agents for a vid of that.”

“No need, it should have been just delivered.” She winked.

“And how can I assist my dearest friend after being given such a gift?” Reyes gave her a sly smile.

“Our deal.” Keema gave him a knowing smirk and her teeth were bared. “With the Collective now operating outside of Kadara port and here on Elaaden I wanted to know where our alliance stood. I like you, Vidal.”

“But there are things you like more,” he answered plainly as he sipped his drink, rolling her words in his mind.

“I do hope we can continue our business.” She smiled kindly at him.

“The original plan has only been delayed. “ Reyes assured her. “I assure you there are things that will be set in motion when the time comes.”

“And am I…” She pieced her words together carefully; a viper still had much to fear in a den, “still a piece on the board.”

“My friend, you are the Queen. I wouldn’t have it any other way. You will sit on that throne one day and have the Angaran port be Angaran run once more.” He watched her face carefully for any sense of betrayal. “I do not have to be on Kadara to issue orders; our arrangement can still stand.”

“Vidal,” she twilled. “How you spoil me. I was hoping perhaps for a bit more… control in regards to the port.”

“I now see why you came in person.” He leaned against his chair and raised his glass. “To business. You are not just a puppet to me, my friend. I shall see you be Queen.”

“One more thing,” Keema chuckled. “The Pathfinder.”

Reyes groaned betraying his stance on that one particular subject. “Say your piece, you are worse than my mother ever was.”

“During her last visit to Kadara she asked about you. It was _adorable_.” Keema said sweetly, and his heart beat a little bit faster.

“And what did the human Pathfinder want?” he asked cautiously.

“She inquired-“ Keema’s omni tool began ringing alarms rapidly. She looked down and saw the incoming message. Without a word she gestured to Reyes to hide. He slunk behind the shadows far enough for out of range of vision but close enough to hear the conversation. This was something Keema had wanted him to hear. She accepted the call and the familiar face of Kaetus appeared. He looked exhausted and still healing from the wounds that Vidal himself had inflicted on him.

Keema had arranged herself that the surroundings were neutral and unable to be pin pointed as she replied, “Kaetus.”

“Keema,” he said by way of greeting. “It looks like you haven’t been compromised by the Collective.”

“I touched down and have safely explored the Flophouse. There are Collective agents but no sign of the Charlatan himself. Agents are whispering about a plot in Kadara. Vidal has not come to ground here, or if he has he is not on premise.” How amazing Keema was, and how easy it came to her to lead them astray. “My old contacts do not trust me the way that they once did. I am sorry I cannot be of more use to Sloane in this capacity. The trade agreements-“

“We can’t worry about that right now. Orders from Sloane.” Kaetus interrupted. “Gather your men and head to the coordinates I’m sending. The Human Pathfinder has called for aid.”

“Do you know what is happening?” Keema filled her voice with urgency and did her best to not look up at Reyes who had suddenly become far more invested in the conversation. Both of them knew Sara Ryder enough at this point that only the worst thing possible would have her get others involved. She was a woman who took the world on her shoulders, and every one’s burden as her own never once really asking much in return.

“The Archon,” Kaetus relayed.  “The Pathfinder begged for help. I bet the Initiative is just going to love it when the Exiles show up.” There was a sneer on the Turian’s face that unnerved Reyes.

“Sara,” Keema very pointedly used her name. “has done nothing but try her best for us. The least we can do is return the favor.”

“Sloane likes a fight.” Kaetus replied evenly, covering his annoyance at the Angaran. “Can we expect you there?”

“Yes,” Keema replied. “I will summon my men right away, and send a message to our Krogan representative about the trade deals being put on hold.”

“Still at the port then? Looks like your run in with the Charlatan went smoothly.” Kaetus grunted and the line went dead.

“He is sometimes so unpleasant.” Keema closed her eyes, trying to even out her breathing before she stood. She looked over where Reyes had been standing and he had already begun moving. He grabbed a sack and put in his favorite assault rifle, rummaging for supplies for what seemed like a battle. “Vidal,” Keema warned him.  “You cannot throw your life away over some woman. We have our plans. If Sloane sees you she WILL not hesitate to kill you.”

“She won’t see me. I’ve hid in the shadows long enough to know what I’m doing, and you can use someone to watch your back,” Reyes had given her a wild smile and a pointed look, “This isn’t about a woman. Besides, Keema, you know I can’t resist a party.”

 

The Kett bled from the sky as the ship Thanatos hit atmosphere. If he had ever been an honest man Reyes might have admitted to thrilling at a good fire fight and chase. It was, after all, part of why he chose the life he did.

Two Angaran shuttles were boarded and prepped to drop as they approached the chaos of the landing zone. “We’re going in hot.” The pilot spoke through gritted teeth as he looked over at Keema.

Keema was dressed in her Angaran Armor and she looked magnificent. She looked like an old Asari war goddess in the books Reyes used to read. The Outcast armor Reyes that he stole weeks ago clung tight to him. Reyes’ body was different now, stronger and fuller. He actually missed his black and gold trimmed gear that had come to fit him like a glove. Keema motioned for him to follow her as the shuttle descended. The plan was simple; fight back, have Keema curry favor with the Initiative, and for Reyes to see what this new world looked like from the inside.

Reyes watched in wonder as ship after ship joined the battle. There were Angaran fighter ships from Aya, Voeld, Kadara, and Harval. He could see members of the resistance fighting alongside the Outcasts, the Turians, the Asari, and the humans.   Anyone and everyone Sara Ryder had reached out to help with her bleeding heart and open arms had arrived on a strange planet to face down death’s door. All of this that laid before him was built on hope.

The planet burned, and bullets flew around him as the realization hit him like a brick. Sara Ryder never betrayed him. His game was one of precision, manipulation, and he had made a mistake. He had thought Sara Ryder saw things the way he did. That she could see the larger picture and be willing to let the blood stain her soul. He knew then that he thought she saw Sloane as he did, unstable and paranoid. He was wrong. He saw it now as he watched all those she had created a better universe for land and prepare to fight. Even the ones she may have hated, feared, or knew would one day manipulate her for power. Sara Ryder would always be willing to put herself between Sloane Kelly and a bullet. She was someone who saw the exiles as People. She was someone who still let him go.

Sara’s face as he boarded his ship and waved smugly as they departed had stuck with him through sleepless nights. In his memory, Sloane screamed in rage beside her as the young Pathfinder just watched the ship rise and fly away. The Human Pathfinder, Sara Ryder, the torch and hope of the Andromeda Initiative, could have killed him and his men with her biotics. She had the capability to charge the ship and bring them down with fire. She could have taken that Angaran made sniper rifle and made careful aim at their thrusters. Instead she chose to be better than the hungry monsters before her.

They battled their way towards the center of Meridian to protect the Pathfinder team. There were voices screaming over the communication line of locations of the Kett, of where the fighting was thickest. It is there when he saw her again for the first time since the cave on Kadara. She wore her full Pathfinder gear as she charged past him like a battering ram. She knocked the Anointed Kett off its feet, embedding her Asari blade in it’s belly. There was a sickening noise of bones breaking as she raised her sword out of it’s corpse. Sara looked around, panting, taking in all of her surroundings. Her suit was caked with dirt, her sword was drenched in blood, and the artificial wind on Meridian gently played with her hair. She looked like an avenging angel, a painting from the museums back in the Milky Way, and he, a humble pilgrim, to bear witness to such a creature.

“Pathfinder,” Keema greeted her as Reyes stayed silent.

“Keema,” Sara sounded pleased and breathless to see Keema.

 “We’ll hold this line,” Keema offered.

Reyes knew what Sara was thinking with her clever brain as she reached into her pouch. “Here is some medi-gel. There are wounded around here. Keep them safe.” She grasps Keema’s hand and he wanted to touch her. To tell her everything that he has been doing as she stands between the Heleaus cluster and exaltation. “Be safe, Keema.”

“Stars be with you, Pathfinder.” Keema said softly grasping Sara hands momentarily. She released the human and Sara turned to him.

“We need to head to that point,” She pointed ahead to where the entrance to the vault lay ahead. “I want Keema’s unit to stay here and tend to the wounded, but do you think you could round up a few men and cover us until we get to that point?” She stood next to him, her eyes earnest and sweet..

Carefully concealing his accent, “Affirmative,” he gave her a nod and she briefly touched his arm. Reyes could feel the phantom pangs from where her fingers lingered.

 “Thank you.” Sara Ryder hit the ground running with a speed that seemed impossible. She cast one brief glance back, as if there was something she could see that she couldn’t quite place. Reyes released the breath he didn’t realize he was holding.

The battle reached a fever pitch as the Pathfinder’s communications cut out during the descent the vault. He could see everyone around him waiting with baited breath as they fought the remaining Kett on the surface. Sloane Kelly, hip deep in Kett blood with Kaetus at her side, emerged from the frenzy surrounding them. She looked less like the paranoid woman who sat upon a throne she didn’t deserve, but a Queen built on fire and rage. This was the woman the exiles had followed.      

Kaetus lingered at her side searching for anything Sloane might have missed. The Turian’s eyes are sharp and pointed as they looked beyond him at Keema. She noticed, aware of everything around her and headed over to the leaders of Kadara. Keema had always been brave and played the game far better than she would ever admit. She betrayed nothing of his presence even as Kaetus glanced at him between words. If Kaetus knew it was him he didn’t do anything. “I only had one casualty in my unit, and two wounded.” She reported as if this was a mere skirmish with raiders instead of a battle for their very existence. Keema distracted the Turian long enough for Reyes to slip away.

Reports of the pathfinder team remained scarce as the remaining Kett were rounded up. The remaining silently piled the bodies of the Kett, or tended to the wounded. Reyes worked as diligently as he made sure to always be moving, and never lingering long where he might be seen. It reminded him of a time when he hadn’t been the Charlatan, when he had been a boy in over his head in a galaxy far away.

A loud gasp and screams of joy emerged from the front of the vault as the Pathfinder and her team limped out victoriously. Sara Ryder smiled radiantly as the citizens of the Heleaus cluster crowded around their hero. Scott Ryder hanging on to his sister for dear life as if being parted would be worse than death.  Kosta running around hugging every person he could see as everyone around them whooped and hollered.

“Feel like I could sleep for a year.” Sara sighed holding her brother up.

“Are you kidding? I could run a marathon,” Scott Ryder joked and for the first time in what felt like a century Sara Ryder laughed.

It was like music at the center of a storm, or the first thaw of spring. It wasn’t a sound Reyes had heard since that night on the crates. He hadn’t realized how much he missed it as his anger dissipated. Sara seemed to catch his helmeted head and gave him a smile as if he was any other soldier that had come to defend them that day. “We did it.” She said to the crowd.

If he was another man, in another life he would have taken off his helmet and winked at her. He could picture it now as he would blend into the crowd mysteriously and leaving her wanting more. In another life perhaps he could have run up to her like a desperate lover and swept her off her feet. Her hands would cling to his biceps and they would whisper words to each other as the world around them became meaningless.

In this life Reyes quietly blended into the crowd and walked away.


	3. To Be Someone

Reyes snuck into one of the storage lockers the minute the celebration went into full swing. He was working off old information while he dug through the bottles stored in the crates. Alas, his information had been incorrect, but it did not stop him from stealing the poor imitation of Mount Milgrom that he found within. He hid the bottle in his knap sack listening to the noises around him. With one set of business completed there was one other thing left.

Finding Evfra was not as hard as he anticipated, secluding him alone however, had been. The leader of the Resistance stood in a hidden corner out of the eye sight of the initiative, and more importantly, Sloane. “You look like you are waiting for someone,” Reyes spoke up from the darkness smoothly.

The old man scowled. “You must do these things on purpose.” He shook his head. “Rumor had you on Elaaden.”

“You really should visit sometime. “Reyes leaned back against the wall, the very image of calm and collected. “You don’t write. You don’t call. I’m wounded.”

“Of course you are.” Evfra shook his head. “What do you want?”

“I want to maintain our… friendship,” Reyes began. “I will always be the _Shena_ you need.” He wished Sara was there, she would have laughed at that horrid joke while Evfra looked somewhere between completely unimpressed and pondering the quickest exit. It was part of what Reyes liked about him.

“I don’t see why that would change. You are a wanted man Reyes,” He grumbled, “but your information is always good.”

“I wouldn’t worry about the Outcasts forever,” Reyes replied smoothly.

“I do not have time for such nonsense,” Evfra spoke firmly. “Even with things the way they are now the Roekar are not to be antagonized and I need information for the next strike against the remaining Kett.”

“Nor do I intend to bring you into it,” Reyes grinned at the resistant leader.  “I still have eyes and ears on the planets you do not.”

It was a statement of truth. Reyes had worked hard before the Pathfinder and before Sloane led all the discontents. He had paid his dues, he had listened to the one who came before him, and more importantly… He had learned. It was a simple game he learned: touch, exploit, and gain. He had learned so much about his fellow explorers the first few months since they arrived in Heleaus. There are so many things they don’t presume a pilot will hear.

“Fine.” Always pragmatic Evfra replied, “Keep me informed.”

Good. He thought to himself. He would have to undercut the pathfinder’s support but, at the moment, it was a price he was willing to pay to keep his men afloat. “It will be an Angaran port again if I have my wishes.”

Evfra looked at him. It wasn’t like how Sara or anyone else did. It was a look he often had seen in a mirror.. Reyes knew Evfra was pitting him against Sloane and what it would gain for the Angarans in the long run. In this Reyes knew he had the upper hand. “We’ll speak again.” Before the old man could respond he turned and disappeared down the old corridor in the Hyperion.

The Charltan was always a few steps ahead. The two separate entities were becoming less and less with every passing day. Sloane had seen to that, and then he took the mantle himself. Perhaps in another life he would have chosen a different name between Shena and the Charlatan, but it wasn’t his choice anymore. He would be what he needed, what THEY didn’t know they needed. He would lay the path out that they would tumble into. There would be no more wild cards, no more Pathfinders that he would look at with hope in his eyes. That time was done.

Shadows gave way to the docks as he weaved through the crowds of revelers who were too drunk to notice the wanted man slipping past them.

Reyes smirked when he saw HIS ship sitting there in the hanger. It was close to the Outcast freighter that had carried Sloane and her men to the battle. It looked a little worse for wear, but it was her. She was the first ship he flew in Andromeda to find a home. She was the one he stole when they were exiled. She was called Macaria and she had carried him to Kadara.

The entire landing site was very loosely guarded even Sloane’s men seemed to have let their guard down in the rapture of celebration. It was easy enough for one man to slip inside the ship, his treasure, and find the familiar pilot seat. They had done some modifications that made him snarl. Macaria had been his ship. They dishonored her in their ignorance. He quickly inputted his manual overrides and fired up the launch sequence.

As the ship roared to life and as it lifted into the air, lurching with an unfamiliar weight, Reyes watched as his adversaries on the ground realized what was happening. He laughed as they scrambled to get closer to the ship as it took off. Flying up into the blue sky of Meridian, he hit the thrusters and jumped into the stars.

He watched Heleus as he passed each star, each planet and he sent a message to Cynopolis and his men. _The Charlatan returns to Cynopolis._ He set is VI to work to manage his messages and sort them as they started pouring in. The updates of what his men had done during his absence. Reports of Sloane on Meridian, conversations overheard in passing that may be viable information.

By the time the ship touched Elaaden he had known he was being followed. The ship that tailed him was Nexus made, its prominent Andromeda Initiative logo was what had given it away. He weighed his options as he broke atmosphere onto the planet, and he lined them against each other. He wasn’t like the Pathfinder, having a computer in his head to weight the options. He had to rely on human instinct. He had to gamble.

The port in Paradise was more than willing to receive him as he worked on the landing. He landed his ship between two cargo freighters. It wouldn’t be the safest place on the planet but it would have to do for now. Reyes was a man on borrowed time. It would only be an hour until his tail hit the planet. They knew he was here and whoever gave chase had known where he had been. It was dangerous. It was thrilling. He felt alive while he paid extra to have one of their dock managers hide Macaria by New Tuchanka. He had paid his dues with Morda and she would keep his precious ship safe in exchange for information or a favor. Reyes Vidal thrilled at being a man leaders wished favors from.

He dressed like a man about to journey through the desert. He pulled up his omni tool and alerted his men that they would be having company. Whoever was following him made Reyes want to know why and to give him a warm welcome. One that led to them being beaten and broken and spilling all their secrets onto the floor.

The Charlatan would hold those secrets and spread them in the stars as betrayal.

Reyes Vidal wondered what his teacher would have thought of him now. Perhaps there would be pride. Perhaps the drill sergeant would have thought twice about the harshness. He could cause a war with a single word, or he could bring peace. The thought of such things thrilled him. There was a power in secrets. Perhaps in another life, Sloane would have had secrets he could have exploited for control, or ones that bent her to his will.

Reyes had read Sloane’s history, anything he could get his hands on, and the only thing that was there to exploit was Kaetus. She knew she was a hot head, she knew who she was against authority and the only thing that bent her was her love for the Turian. Reyes swallowed. He had only known such love once. It was a long time ago during another unending war where he lost everything that made him human. Now he was a king of his own making. He wondered what his Abuela would think of him now. Perhaps a shadow of his father, or all the good he had from his mother?

It didn’t matter anymore. Reyes was Reyes. Reyes was the Charlatan and in Elaaden he had become Law. He worked within the boundaries of the Initiative and Morda, but there was now no question. It wasn’t in the credits he handed to the dock manager. It wasn’t in the supplies his men gave to Morda… it was the time and respect he had channeled into each and every interaction. He could play the pieces. It was a new feeling he endured. The selfish part of him had wanted to not risk his life as a known entity. He wanted to be as the Shadow Broker was, but now? He had realized there was a difference.

The Shadow Broker lived in anonymity. Reyes had wanted to follow those footsteps. They were invisible in the sand and controlled so much power. The Shadow Broker could start wars if the mood came. There was a viciousness there in the dark where words were whispered and secrets were kept. It was a place paid in blood.

A message appeared from one of his operatives. _Kaetus followed you from Meridian. We are counting at least fifteen heavily armored agents. Itching for a fight it seems._

_Set the stage,_ Reyes fires back.

_Affirmative, Charlatan. Noise on the network is saying that Sloane isn’t aware he followed you. He has been ignoring her messages._

He slips into one of the buildings in Paradise with a hard trained ease. The exiles here had heard the news about the Archon and the celebration had crossed to the planets. He needs clothes he reasons, and ones that don’t look like the outcasts. “Vidal.” There is a trill behind him as he opens another crate looking for something.

Reyes turned to see a turian woman behind him. She flexed her mandible,s irritated at him. “Velonia! My friend.” He smiled brightly and turned on the charm. “Did you hear? The Pathfinder stopped the Archon… we should celebrate.”

Velonia looked at him less than impressed. She had always been one of his better buyers, and before Ryder, one of his favorite tumbles. “You should hear what they are saying about you, Vidal.”

“I am a man where many words can be said.” He turned back to his quarry finding clothing in his size. He found a flight suit that would due for him.

“You want to go out that way,” Velonia turned her head to the door that was opposite the port “The Outcasts just landed. Some of the others are going to send them out to one of the ports as the location of Cynopolis. They are looking for the Charlatan.”

“Tell them to go to the stronghold. I am curious, Velonia, why you are helping me.” Reyes smirked, leaning casually against the wall.

“I’ve been in the smuggling business for a long time. I don’t like assholes who take more than their share.” She shrugged. “Not sure how I feel about someone using a sniper for the dirty work, but it could get the job done.”

Reyes rolled his shoulders. “I feel like it is time for the Outcasts and Andromeda to understand who I truly am.” He tightened the gloves on his hands and stole out through the back door, into the sun, and towards Cynopolis.

There was a stage to set.


	4. Jackal

The sun bore down as Kaetus’ men reached the Cynopolis stronghold. The buildings and area looked as deserted as Reyes had intended. The trap was set as Reyes watched them from his perch above the main building. Kaetus was a clever man and would no doubt know an obvious trap when he saw one, which is why he had come through the east entrance. From where he watched he saw the two teams filter through the empty space below them. They had intended to hit him from both sides in a pincer attack. It would have been quite the battle if he had not been a few steps ahead of him.

People had been there, signs of life and home sprinkled around in delicate touches on each grain of sand.  Reyes was a cat toying with his food as he watched them. Sloane’s men were like her, fool hardy and hot headed. Kaetus was a more patient man, but anger can only abide for so long.

“Come out you son of a bitch,” Kaetus screamed, as if right on cue. The rage boiling under the Turian’s skin was an all too familiar litany to Reyes.

Reyes Vidal walked into the sunlight of the Cynopolis. He drew the attention of the Outcast guards who raised their guns towards him. He thought he looked regal in the clothing he had donned as the Charlatan. He leaned casually against the building he had emerged from. He was bold. He was confident. “I was waiting for you.” Reyes smirked.

“I’ll wipe that smug face off.” Kaetus aimed his gun.

“I would not do that if I were you, my friend.” Reyes looked at the Turian as if he were bored with him. He was an insect beneath his boot.

“I’ll kill you for what you’ve done,” Kaetus threatened.

Anger was such a delicate thing, but wild and untamed when not controlled. “It is strange that you would come here against the orders of Sloane.” Reyes purred. There were at least thirty Outcasts members with Kaetus. Kaetus wanted to be the hammer in the center, so like him, while he had the two other groups working around the back. It would be the best offense on this stronghold, but Reyes had called ahead. Reyes had paid attention. “And foolish.”

Shots rang out from the perimeter of the Cynopolis. Reyes smiled as Kaetus watched the men who had come with him fall onto the sand, bleeding as the last of their lives left them. “I should have known you wouldn’t engage in a firefight,” the Turian accused him.

“I found playing fair doesn’t accomplish the results I desire,” Reyes replied.

_Engaging hostiles_ echoed in his ear from Hax Purak.

“Sloane will come for me.” The sound of a battle quickly drowned out his words as Kaetus heard in his men be systematically shot and killed.

“Let her come,” Reyes growled. “You led these men to their deaths for your pride.”

“You deserve worse.” Kaetus shot back.

_Second group scattering back to their shuttles_ , came from Virlan.

Reyes jumped down from his perch and walked towards him. “You are alone. Your men have abandoned you or are dead. Your pilot did a piss poor job of concealing you.” He smiled a smile that showed his teeth, vicious and unyielding. “An entire asteroid field to hide in and yet... Sloane should be embarrassed at the quality of your men.”

“Like your liars and murders are any better,” Kaetus swallowed and shot back.

“True,” Reyes sighed, “but the innocent don’t pay for the blood on our hands, and trust me it runs deep and thick.”

“Was it innocent to leave me broken in front of Sloane?” he spat.

“You are not innocent.” Reyes motioned to one of his snipers.

“Just kill me and get it over with, _Charlatan,”_ Kaetus growled, lunging at him. Reyes smoothly moved out of the way, anticipating his move. The Turian’s weight caused him to fall on the sand as Reyes watched him triumphantly.

“Sloppy, Kaetus. I was expecting more of a fight,” Reyes taunted. “I expected more after watching you fight the Kett. You are nothing without Sloane.”

“I will burn your entire operation to the ground.” Kaetus stared up at Reyes, his eyes burning.

Reyes moved over to Kaetus and kicked him hard in the stomach, causing the turian to clutch wildly in pain. “I doubt it.”

“I will kill you.” Kaetus tried to reach him.

“I would not try, my friend, I would only do, but right now I have you at a disadvantage.” He grabbed the Turian’s face and twisted it to look around the ledges. “There were guns on you the moment you hit the port. You need to get better men who know how to fucking fly.”

Kaetus spat in Reyes face. He released his grip on the Turian and stood proudly against the sun as he wiped the spittle from his face. Kaetus burned at him. Kaetus in his helplessness.

“There is something I learned from the Pathfinder,” Reyes began, “you can instill fear into a person, you can threaten them, you can break them. You can have them pleading at your feet in mercy offering you everything they are for one more chance, but in the end the fear does not hold them. “

“You love to hear yourself talk.”

Reyes chuckled at the Turian. “No, but I have learned that if you make them _love_ you… they go to the end of the universe in your name. It will inspire those to follow you, to protect you, and to show up at the end of all things for a chance. Fear is effective, but love… love is deadly. And anger can destroy you.”

Kaetus closed his eyes, the rage and anger ebbing. The realization over the mistake he made. “What do you intend to do with me?” His voice sounded defeated. Reyes almost pitied him. They were men who had been wounded.

“Sloane took my queen,” Reyes said evenly. “Then I shall take her king.”

Reyes motioned towards his men.  They came out of where they had been hiding and Kaetus watched the gathering Collective members. Their numbers had increased. “What shall we do with him, Charlatan?” Virlan emerged and asked.

“Take him to the cell.” He nodded at his friend.

“Rough him up a bit, Boss?” Hax Purak asked, grinning wildly at the Turian. “I owe Sloane a bit for how she treated my people.”

“No,” Reyes interjected causing Kaetus to be taken aback. “We may be smugglers, murders, and killers… but let us prove that we will always be the better alternative to Sloane.”

Hax grumbled but did as he had been ordered. He picked up Kaetus by the arm and the Turian yelled in pain. “Not fair, you got to.” He tossed Reyes a pout before throwing the Turian over his shoulder and marching towards the building they had designated for cells.

“What are we going to do with him?” Virlan asked quietly as the rest of them dispersed to clean up the dead Outcast guards and reinforce barriers.

“We will learn his secrets and be ready for when Sloane eventually mounts a rescue attempt. Her morale will be down.” He stopped for a moment before continuing, evaluating how much he should trust. “We have agents working within the port to undermine her, Virlan.” He clasped the Salarian’s shoulder. “We are playing the long game.”

“Eye on the prize is the human saying?” Virlan asked.

Reyes chuckled. “Yes, my friend.”

Reyes Vidal walked towards the edge of Cynopolis. He looked out over the crater in front of him. It was vast, deep, and dark. A breeze gently touched his face, mussing up his hair. It was finally back to its proper coif as he wore his vestments of black and gold. He closed his eyes and breathed the air in as the sun shone brightly upon him.


	5. EPILOGUE: Bang Bang

_2 Months Later_                

The inside of his home was dark and tidy. There were few personal effects but there was a clear sign of it being lived in.  He removed his gun belt and slid his jacket off his shoulders. He clicked his omni-tool, bringing to life the series of terminals. He input his code and watched as his data network filled the room with light. It reminded him of when he was younger, when he worked for someone else in the shadows, and he had the opportunity to see the inner sanctum just once before he ran into another Galaxy.

Information, reports, and agents all over the quadrant poured in as he opened the bottle of whiskey on his desk and took a swig. He wondered why the weight of a good deed hung heavier on his shoulders? He could kill a man, he could order people to their death, but it hadn’t lingered with him. It was like when he helped the Doctor, he did it because it gave him better standing in the community, manipulating them into preferring him over Sloane. It was all a calculated gamble. When people are scared give them food, water, and shelter and they will love you. People could easily be positioned to lie for him, to protect him. He could use all the information he had at his disposal to black mail into getting what he needed, but what to do with things that were considered the _right_ thing to do was as alien as anything he had seen in the stars.

The bottle of Mount Milgrom sat on his counter the untouched bottle among others. He reached down and picked it up. He opened it smelling it for the first time in months, it would be a mistake to let such a delicious drink go to waste. He raised the bottle to his lips and let the last of the liquid touch his parched throat. With one last sip of the whiskey he tossed the bottle into the trash.

Reyes was suddenly very still. There was a cold, hard barrel of a gun at the base of his head.

“You look like you are waiting for someone,” a soft feminine voice hit him harder than any bullet could have. It tore through him as he raised his hands up in surrender.

“You know, there are better ways to say hello,” Reyes said as he turned around. Sara stared at him, hard and cold. “Would have been a shame to waste such whiskey, it is such a treasure you know.” He purred.

“I bet you say that to all the people who are holding a gun to your head.” She looked different, Reyes notes, her shoulders were squarer and she isn’t wearing her Andromeda Initiative gear. She had replaced it with a black jacket and a mechanic’s jumpsuit that barely fit. He could disarm her, he thought, he could lock her wrist if he could only take her by surprise. If he could get to a weapon he could potentially win. She had formal training, while he had been a brawler.

“Ryder…” He rolled her name in the way he knew she liked. There were other ways to win.

“Knock that off.” Sara grumbled.

The desired reaction was not felt in the cold blue eyes staring at him evenly. “To what do I owe this pleasure?” He stared down at the woman behind the gun. In truth, this wounded him more than a bullet or her siding with Sloane did.

“You have something I need,” Sara said evenly.

“Anything I have is yours,” Reyes smirked.

“Cut the shit, Reyes.” She sounded annoyed, and tired. “You know I can biotically slam you into a wall before you could reach for a gun.”

“Consider me schooled.” He chuckled.

“You don’t reach for your gun and I won’t break you into a million pieces.” Sara’s eyes searched his for something, perhaps for a remnant of a woman on a rooftop.

“I promise,” Reyes replied softly.

Sara lowered her gun. “You make a lot of promises, Charlatan.” She scowled. “Hardly any of them kept.”

That wounded him more than he would ever admit, even to Keema. “How can I help you Pathfinder?”

 “Do you want a list? Alphabetically?” Sara joked despite herself. He could see the war on her face. The frustration vibrating on her skin and he forgot how young she was at the end of the day.  

 With her distracted he moved closer to where his gun was holstered. Sara wouldn’t harm him. He felt it in his bones, but he couldn’t take that chance. “You could also do an outline.” He purred.

“Stop,” Sara looked up at him. “Don’t do THAT.” She gestured at him.

“Whatever could you mean?” Reyes held still.

“You know,” She grumbled and ran a hand through her hair. It was tied back in a braid that circled her head. “THAT.”

“What do you need, Sara?” Reyes said softly.

Sara smiled, that sweet smile she had given him once months ago. It was the look of the woman behind the bravado. It was kind, and nothing but trouble. It was something he had come to love. “What do I need?” She drawled. “Well, the information you stole from the Shadow Broker would be a great start.”

 It felt like his entire body had been dunked into ice water. He looked at her face and the knowledge sunk low in his belly. _She knows._

  
image by [shotce](https://shotce.tumblr.com/) the best ever. hearts and flowers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm almost sorry for that ending and making you wait... Almost. ;p


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